Useless Day

Man, it's been a useless day. I had my doctor's appointment to get checked out this morning at 10. The nurse asked me why I was there and I told her, "Well, I have a list. I'm like a car that's been driven to death and now it's time for a tune-up". Thankfully she's a mother herself and she nodded like she knew exactly what I meant. I did have quite a list going. Gout, check thyroid, why am I so fat, do I have osteoporosis, I need more crazy pills, are my hormones out of whack, I need something more than Claritin or Zyrtec for my allergies and finally, why do I snore so fucking much? As I rattled off my list the doctor said, "And memory loss?" and I nodded quick and said, "Oh yes". Then I realized that I hadn't mentioned memory loss and I wondered if I was repeating myself but she must have seen my wheels turning and she said "I figured, by the list". She diagnosed me with CRS right then and there, and she even said it. She said, "Yeah, you have Can't Remember Shit". She went to writing prescriptions but before we made plans to go grab a martini I remembered that I had some breast fluid thing going on so I had to whip out the boobs. She did a culture of the fluid and produced an order for a mammogram and ultrasound in the blink of an eye. She said a few words you don't say unless you really want to scare the shit out of someone but I'm just chilling out for now. My boob-mashing session is scheduled for April 2 and the culture should be back before then.

There is good news in all of this. My nose is whacked out and she said that Nasonex may work for me but if not I might be getting a free nose job, something about a deviated septum. That would be pretty cool. I don't have the courage to willingly have a nose job but if we are in a sensuous situation I'd be game. You know, sensuous (since you was, redneck style) already in there, go ahead and make it pretty. Fidel and I write sensuous notes to each other all the time.

I guess underneath all of this Zoloft I did get freaked out. I thought I was fine but I went to Target and couldn't find my car when I came out. It took me about 10 minutes before I started crying. I didn't even have my cell phone in my purse to call anyone to talk me down. I finally found my Jeep and I have no recollection at all of parking it in the particular spot I found it in. There was an empty parking spot right next to it and wouldn't you know that right before I got into the safety of my car, a girl I know pulls up right beside me as I'm blubbering and feeling sorry for my own dumb ass for not being able to find my flippin' car. I really don't want to talk about my boob issue with IRL people. Even if it's the big C I just don't think I'll feel like talking about it. I bet she thinks I'm divorcing or losing my marbles or something. Who cries over not finding their parking spot?